There is no escape from mystery. It is the character of our being.
Existence in itself, taken at its least miraculous, is a miracle.
I have no faith in the sense of comforting beliefs which persuade me that all my troubles are blessings in disguise.
Where there is real love one wants to go to church first.
Man is a hating rather than a loving animal.
The childhood of the individual and the race is full of fears, and panic-stricken attempts to avert what is feared by placating the gods with painful sacrifices.